


How To Create A Monster

by MrSylar (orphan_account)



Series: Horror and Other Fucked up things [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gay Sex, M/M, Psychological Torture, Rape, Serial Killer Dean Winchester, Serial Killers, Torture, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 03:12:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11888733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/MrSylar
Summary: “Why do you have a candle?”The hit didn’t come but a question did.“Because it’s my birthday.”He lifted the white candle that the woman upstairs had given him then told him to leave. The new men upstairs didn’t want the boy, she made him leave so he wouldn’t upset them, but before he left she handed him a candle and shut the door.“How old are you?”“12.”The taller boy smiled gently down at him. He released his forearm and moved his hands to the smaller boys. He took his right hand into his and took the candle from the other.“Let me get you a gift then.”The taller boy let go of his hands and took the candle away.“Stay here.”----------------------------------------------------Not for the faint of heart





	How To Create A Monster

**Author's Note:**

> Horror Stories of The Fifth Abis

                              Rape. An interesting topic for a variety of reasons. People seem to think rape is the most heinous crime even with murder included. That’s why a preacher by the name of marks was given 25 years in prison after he raped nine little boys, whereas a man by say the name john was only given 11 for killing a young girl. Another thing is children, they are the picture of innocence after all. Back to my original statement, rape; something so, horrific yet is not an end but a beginning, victims can stay victims, they can cower and go back to thinking how safe they are not anymore, some people exploit the raped, saying things like all men think this way or even women are the ones who are unjustified by it, when in reality that isn’t true. I could care less truly either way, I think it’s quite pathetic what women turn into after the act or even what they were before, I do not sympathize with either the victim or the perpetrator. I have a certain level of understanding I guess, but nothing close to sympathy. It’s typical for most humans to give in to their psychological urges, lust being one of them along with the power.

 

You can see it in our society, women lusting after men and men after woman as if the human population needs more re-population. It’s disgusting truly but at the same time it puts people into these situations such as raping one another, killing, stocking. It’s as if everything is based off the act of lust. In reality it’s not, you have cases of boss killing worker because he chewed gun too loudly, but you have to think about it, how powerful the act of sex is. Men will swear their lives forever to a woman for it while some will kill themselves for the thought of it in an afterlife. I've never understood it, but that was my problem I guess, I had to know so I did things to find out, all the way from killing a victim to drowning a predator. As I said before, I take no sides, but I guess that's why I'm here. It’s hard to say where I went wrong.

 

Chapter Two

How the Monster is Created

Blood seeped down his legs. He was standing naked in the dimly lit bathroom with his hands gripping the side of the sink, there was a smell of mold permeating from the shower which once white but now stained yellow with what he could only assume was blood, the sink as well but more blood stains near the hole, the dripping was constant along with the light occasionally flickering. The whole bathroom was like a scene out of a teenage road trip horror movie with the disgusting toilet by the sink that seemed like it had never been cleaned, he gripped the sides of the sink tighter when a rather painful cough started deep in his chest, soon enough he was coughing up blood into the sink making the red stain radiate with every drop. He felt, nothing actually, other than the pain from his rear and the pain in his stomach, he felt nothing. He used to be scared when he was younger, when they would shove him around and then tear off his pants, but now he felt something dark inside of him.

He laughed at the cliché, yet somehow it fit. He felt the darkness reach out and grab his shoulder, it perched itself upon it and started whispering things that made the young boy smile bigger than he thought he'd ever smiled. He looked up into the mirror looking at himself. He was small looking almost feminine, yet his face and dark almost black hair made him look beautiful, at least appealing enough for his female classmates. Then he looked at his blue eyes and yet not, something took over him, a feeling he felt like he could drown in it and love every last breath. He pushed off the sink and walked out of the too small bathroom into the crack house, the rather large man was passed out on his side with a needle in his arm and a cracked out woman making out with a young man that couldn't have been older than himself, a tender 15 years of age. He walked over to where they had the needles laying all about and grabbed a few needles full of heroin. While the woman and boy made out he turned the older man on his back and looked for a vain. He could hear gowning but from who he wasn’t sure, he inserted the needle full of heroin in the bigger man’s arm and pushed the dirt looking liquid in. The boy did this several times until all the needles by him were empty. The bigger man was limp and the boy realized his lips were blue, the bigger man began to make a sort of coughing sound, as if he was choking. At this time the boy had pushed off the woman and started hollering at the boy on the ground. 

“What are you doing?!? He needs to be turned on his side!!”

The kid from the couch began to walk toward the boy on the ground but the boy stood up swiftly and walked away to the kitchen. The kids voiced carried to the kitchen where the boy was grabbing a knife from the dark yellow stained counter.

“WHAT DID YOU DO THAT’S TOO MUCH YOU COULD HAVE KILLED HIM?!?!”

The boy walked back in and saw the woman passed out on the couch and the kid holding the man on his side patting basically hitting his back muttering words of encouragement to try and get the large dead man to vomit. The boy walked right to the kids back and stabbed the knife right where he thought the kidney was. The kid howled in pain and started to flailing, when the kid seemed to realize it hurt worse that way. He pushed himself away from the knife and tried to get away but was in an enormous amount of pain and ended up crawling. 

A memory the boy had seen once played through his head as the kid found his voice and began to scream. The image was of a movie he had seen while the woman on the couch was working at a rich guy’s house. She turned the volume up and left the kid to the ‘scary movie’, he guessed she tried to make him too scared to get off the couch to try and find her but it didn’t work, it actually fascinated the young boy who couldn’t have been more than ten at the time. He watched as the masked man stabbed the young woman in the back as she was crawling away from him and blood sprayed everywhere. 

The boy came back to himself as he heard the kid fall down on the ground a few feet away letting out a cry of pain. The boy walked to the kid and began to stab him over and over again. The kid cried and eventually started to spit up blood. Once the kid stopped moving the boy stood up straight and walked to the woman who was out cold, he stripped her and flicked small droplets of blood on her making it look like it was smeared, he opened her palm and put the knife into it. Once he got done with her he walked to the too small bathroom and turned the shower on. He stepped under the spray of water and washed his body clean leaving his hair alone, being careful not to get it wet. Once he was done he hopped out and dried himself off with a small towel. 

The boy walked into what used to be his room and put on clothing from the dirty laundry basket. He sat on his bed facing the door. He felt numb, he felt like he just injected himself with something and now it was wearing off. He knew he would need to do this again, he knew he just started an addiction. The boy sat there for hours until he heard a knock on the apartment door.

“Police! We’re responding to a loud noise complaint!”

The boy realized how amazing the feeling of the boy dying by his hand was. He could feel himself plunge the knife into his hard back over again, tears came to his eyes as the feeling overwhelmed him. 

He heard the front door burst open.

He held himself closer as a cop started yelling at the woman on the couch, as he could only assume his partner was walking around the house. The boy heard someone turn the handle on his door and walk right in.

An old officer in his forties walked in and stared at the young boy with tears streaming down his face and clothing that was ripped up and smelled days old, he was in the fetal position looking down but after a minute he looked up at the older man. 

“Please help me.”

Chapter 3

Two Cups of Abuse

The boy sat in an open park just outside the apartment building. The streets were full of young trick or treaters too little to go late at night yet old enough for poor parents to let them run free. The boy had a small candle and was dressed in a big t-shirt and shorts too small for the October air. He was swinging softly back and forth just watching the people go by and the sun slowly set. He felt someone staring at him for the past few moments but didn’t dare to look around, sometimes the woman upstairs had male visitors that had too much of an interest in him. The woman would allow them to touch him and do things to him that he’s seen them do to her, afterward they would give her money and leave, and on rare occasions they would take him with them and come back a few days later.

He knew not to cry or plead anymore, she would only get mad and call the big man into the room to hit him or worse. It hadn’t been a problem for months, he just did what they asked at went back to doing what he was doing before they came to collect him. He knew what they were doing, his teachers talked about sexual abuse to the girls and they made him and a few other boys join, because they were so small and feminine they thought something might happen to them. They said it was wrong and to report it whenever it happened, which he did and it was a mistake. The big man was told one day after the boy got off of school.

The boy walked in and was grabbed immediately and dragged into the big man’s room. The big man tied his hands to the bed frame and flipped him on his stomach, he began to rip his small shirt in half and away from his body. The boy couldn’t help the tears and strangled pleas to stop because his body hurt from the activity’s that had taken place the night before. Before he could register that his pants were not being removed he felt a searing sharp pain right below his shoulder on his back as something dug deeper into his skin feeling like it was touching his heart, the pain stopped going deeper and started going down his back and stopping before his waistline. The boy screamed like he had never screamed before until something was stuffed into his mouth and very loud music began to play drowning out his cries for help.  He felt more pain then he had ever felt as the, what he could only assume knife, was taken out of his back slowly and put back up by his shoulders in the middle of his back and started over again slicing down his back. 

The pain was too much that the boy passed out. He thought he was finally dead, relief flooded through him as he moved his body only for pain to overtake his body and a huge pained sob to escape his mouth. He realized quickly that he wasn’t dead but in extreme pain. 

The boy tried everything to get his limbs to work but they wouldn’t, his back hurt so badly and he couldn’t feel his hands that were above his head tied to the bed. The music was off and the window showed it was dark outside, he could hear a TV going in the other room and voices talking, he couldn’t focus on the voices only the pain. Everything got dark again and the pain started to numb and he fell back into the darkness.

The boy’s eyes flew open and great pain filled him again but much worse as he was tossed off the bed landing on his back letting out a scream. A big dark slewed stood before the boy and began to scream at him to be quite. The boy couldn’t he was in too much pain and the pain outweighed the fear. Kicks started raining down on him making him scream louder before it went dark again. 

When he opened his eyes all he could see was white. For a split second he was thought he felt something akin happy until a lady looked down at him with to strong perfume and purple scrubs, he knew what they were because one of the little girls from his classrooms mom was nurse and often picked her up late in her pink work uniform. The boy’s eyes watered knowing he wasn’t dead but in a hospital bed. The big man was going to hurt him again. 

“Shhh honey, everything is okay your mommy brought you in and told us everything, you’re going to be okay sweetheart.”

The boy was slightly confused until the door opened and the woman walked in with the big man looking out of place in the clean room. The nurse patted the boy’s shoulder lightly and walked out, when she did the woman’s happy crying face cleared and her dark eyes were put back, the man’s face never changed as he came closer and held onto the boy's shoulder hard enough for the wound to start hurting badly. He said nothing for a few moments until he leaned down and got into the boy’s face.

“You will pay.”

And he did.

He paid every day as the wound closed. He told the cops it was some masked man and the big man and woman said other things but the boy never heard them. He went home with them and things got worse.

  
  


A TeaSpoon of Trauma 

The boy was knocked out of his thoughts as someone took the seat next to him. He gave the other person a glance only to have to look again. The boy found him remarkable, he was slightly taller than him and had bright green eyes with dirty blonde hair and a perfect smirk looking back at him. The taller boy was indeed smirking back at him, the boy looked forward choosing to ignore the stranger.

“I hear what goes on in your apartment.”

The boy said it as if he was talking about a fact he found in the newspaper about dogs. The boy sat in the swing for a few moments processing and trying to come up with an answer to this that would sound reasonable.

“I also see those men who come and take you away.”

The taller boy stood up and smiled down at the younger boy, not a smirk but a full on smile that made the boy feel warm. The boy needed to go, the taller one was making him feel things that were confusing, and he needed to clear his head. He stood up to walk away from the taller boy but was pulled back by a strong arm around his forearm.

“I don’t like it.”

The boy felt oddly brave in this moment. As if he was talking to a friend he’d known for so long, he assumes that’s what the feeling could compare to but he had no knowledge of what that felt like, he’d never had a friend.

“And you think I do?”

The taller boy seemed somewhat surprised at the smaller ones outburst. The boy turned his cheek ready to feel a sharp pain for speaking out, he didn’t regret it and the movement came so easy to him like breathing. 

“Why do you have a candle?”

The hit didn’t come but a question did.

“Because it’s my birthday.”

He lifted the white candle that the woman upstairs had given him then told him to leave. The new men upstairs didn’t want the boy, she made him leave so he wouldn’t upset them, but before he left she handed him a candle and shut the door. 

“How old are you?”

“12.”

The taller boy smiled gently down at him. He released his forearm and moved his hands to the smaller boys. He took his right hand into his and took the candle from the other.

“Let me get you a gift then.”

The taller boy let go of his hands and took the candle away. 

“Stay here.”

The tall one walked away to the street and waited. He stood there for a while until only four kids were on the street. A little boy from their building named Chris walked by dressed as a vampire, his mom was a nurse and his dad was dead from what Chris had told him, the boy sometimes got a cookie from her when she made them for Chris, the boy thought she was nice. Chris had just turned six a month ago, the boy got an invitation to his birthday but never went, Chris rode the bus with him and never seemed to stop talking, so the boy chalked it up to him being lonely.

The boy noticed that Chris was on his own, his mother was nowhere in sight and it seemed the taller boy noticed too because he walked right up to Chris and grabbed him hard taking him into the alleyway on the other side of the street, Chris was screaming but the other children knew to mind their own business, they ran off in different directions and the boy could hear Chris crying from the alleyway begging the taller boy to stop doing whatever he was doing. 

The boy didn’t feel right about this, he didn’t hate Chris and he had no reason to wish him harm. He was about to turn away and go inside when he heard the boy let out a blood curtailing scream. The boy walked across the street and into the alleyway. He saw trash scattered everywhere and a cat eating something out of a trash can. The boy saw the tall ones back and could hear Chris whimpering but not as loud as he was. The boy stepped closer and put his hand on the tall ones shoulder, he turned smiling down at the boy with small splatters of red stuff all over his face, he took a step back and looked at the tall one, he had a large knife in his left hand and the candle in his right, he turned his head to Chris who was holding his arm and crying around a mouth full of candy, so much so that Chris couldn’t shut it. The taller boy stepped forward and put the knife wielding arm around his neck and pulled him closer.

“I think you should leave.”

He brought him close enough for their noses to touch.

“Don’t tell anyone. Okay?”

The taller boy smiled and let go and moving toward Chris. The boy ran away. He ran to the building and up the stairs all the way to his door and stopped. He could hear moaning from the other side and took a step back. He went down the hall to Chris’s and began to knock on the door. It opened a few minutes later to a very tired and groggy looking woman that the boy knew to be Chris’s mom. 

“Hey little guy what’s up?”

The boy stopped himself. What was he going to say? Why would he say anything? The taller boy and he had no quarrel. He stopped and simply shook his head.

“Happy Halloween.”

He turned before she commented and walked away back to where his door was and sat down beside it. He never understood how feelings worked, he understood what happy meant and what sad meant, he had simply never felt them, he could have stopped the tall boy, he could have told Chris’s mother, but he didn’t, and he didn’t know why. It wasn’t because he felt guilty, or scared, or even brave, he simply didn’t want the older boy to get into trouble.

After a few hours the men left and the woman let him back in. He went to his small bare room that consisted of a small mattress on the ground and a window with some laundry by it. He laid down on the bed and kept his eyes up till they became too heavy 


End file.
